


Yes, but--

by RembrandtsWife



Series: Sherlolly Lite [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anal Play, Anal Plug, F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sex Toys, Vaginal Sex, Women have butts too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-28
Updated: 2014-04-28
Packaged: 2018-01-21 03:31:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1536023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RembrandtsWife/pseuds/RembrandtsWife
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Molly asked Sherlock to buy another sex toy, but she's a little dubious about his choice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Yes, but--

**Author's Note:**

> A follow-up or companion piece to ["A Definite Enhancement"](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1042129). Pure, unadulterated smutty fun. Thanks to dietplainlite and nookienostradamus for having a look and giving me the thumbs-up.

"You did say you wanted me to buy us a new toy," Sherlock said, twirling the toy in question between his fingers.

"Yes, but--" Molly began and then started giggling helplessly. Sherlock couldn't help but join in.

"An anal plug," he said, when she had progressed to wiping the tears of laughter from her face. "Yes, a butt plug." He gave the plug a little squeeze. "It's nice and soft."

Still looking dubious, Molly took it from him and examined it. It was a soft piece of shiny purple plastic, about the length of her index finger, shaped a bit like a pear, if a pear's stem were to grow out of its widest end. It was warm, no doubt from being carried in Sherlock's pocket, and very smooth, even smoother than her vibrator.

"And you want me to try this?" she said, trying not to feel the heat in her face. Sherlock looked almost solemn.

"I think you might enjoy it very much." He took it from her hand and slipped it back into his trouser pocket. "But I'd be willing to demonstrate it for you."

Now *that* was a surprisingly arousing image, one that kept coming back to mind as they ate dinner. Sherlock seemed to know where the absolute best takeaway was in London, no matter what the cuisine--tonight it was Thai, and her lips were burning from the delicious green curry--but she kept imagining the little purple pear in her hand, and Sherlock's magnificent bum spread out for her.

Once the table was cleared, Sherlock leaned back against the counter and gathered her against him for a kiss that seemed to be as much about tasting the green curry as tasting her. His hands, however, settled on her arse, reminding her--as if she could have forgotten--about the new toy.

"I know what you were thinking during dinner," he said, his voice deep with amusement.

"I don't think you'd have to be Sherlock Holmes to figure that out." She slipped a hand down to his crotch, where his erection was already clearly outlined by his trousers, then into his pocket, to grasp the butt plug and rub her knuckles against his conveniently close prick.

Sherlock bit his lip, a sign that he was suppressing the urge to squirm and rub against her seeking hand. "Do you want to put it in me, then?" He sounded quite interested in the idea.

  
Molly cocked her head. "I don't know. I might just want you to put it in me."

She pulled the plug out of his pocket and skittered away to the bedroom, laughing, with Sherlock in hot pursuit.

The butt plug sat on the nightstand, next to the bottle of lube (which she hadn't put away after their tryst two days ago), while they peeled off each other's clothes, trading kisses and complaints. "Why must you wear so many layers, where's your *skin*?"

"Everything you wear is so fitted, Sherlock, I can't--"

She threw herself happily on the bed, nothing left but her socks. Sherlock knelt, seized her ankle, and drew the sock away, tossing it over his shoulder. Laughing, Molly grabbed the other one, pulled it off, and tossed it in the opposite direction.

"Ah!" Sherlock pounced, settling himself between her legs, the weight of his chest propped on his elbows. "There it is," he said, and kissed the tiny mole on her sternum.

"What is?"

"Your skin." She giggled as he rubbed his face against her chest, above her breasts, scraping her lightly with his sparse evening stubble. "So soft, mm, so sweet…." His lips wandered up to her neck.

Most of the time Molly smelt of hospital after a day's work, chemicals and internal organs and a whiff of the rather sweet laundry detergent she favored to compensate. Sherlock never seemed to mind, though; his lips against her throat were tender and skilled and thoroughly sincere.

"Even softer here," he said, and took a nipple between his lips. Molly sighed and toyed with his hair and let her sighs deepen into moans as his lips and tongue and mouth and fingers, oh, pleasured every inch of her breasts. He was still flicking his tongue shamelessly over her nipple, his mouth open, his eyes locked on her face, when his fingers found her clit.

He broke off to moan along with her. "So wet, you're practically drenching the sheets." He shifted backward so he could look at her crotch while he touched her, the tip of his tongue coming out to tease his parted lips and her imagination. "I could swim in you, Molly." One finger glided back and forth along her cleft, almost frictionless in the river of her desire. "I could drown in you."

His eyes were glittering silver rings around dark, deep wells of arousal. Molly licked her own lips, trying to find her words, then gave up and simply grabbed a handful of curls and pulled his face into her cunt.

A throaty chuckle tickled her clit as two fingers spread her folds open and dipped inside. Oh yes… she could come three or four times like this, Sherlock fucking her with his fingers while he licked and sucked her clit and labia. She lost track of how many times she did come; he kept up until she felt like every bone in her body had been replaced by cotton wool.

His lips sought hers, smelling and tasting of her pleasure. She opened her eyes to Sherlock smiling and petting her hair. "Roll over on your belly for me?" Eyes closing again, she did.

He coaxed her thighs apart a bit further and teased her clit, lightly now, brushing over it a few times before he drew his finger back and up, along the cleft of her buttocks and over her arsehole. He stroked her three, four times, a soft dry touch, then traced the tight circle of her hole with a fingertip.

"Okay?" His hand pressed warm on the small of her back.

"Mm-hmm."

"The lube is going to be cool," he said. She heard the squirt of the pump bottle--before Sherlock she'd never known lube came in *bottles*--and wiggled when the cool soft goop touched her. His finger dipped into her anus and went no further, but circled just inside the rim, testing the tightness of the muscles, sparking nerve endings she might have learned were there but had long forgot about.

"Good?" The inquisitive finger paused.

"Uh-huh." She nodded for emphasis.

The inquisitive finger dipped into her body a little bit. It wasn't like how he fingered her pussy, which always took hold of him greedily, sucked on him and wanted more. He was careful, even hesitant; the little splashes of pleasure that washed over her came as a series of surprises.

When she started whimpering steadily, Sherlock stopped. "Is it good, sweetheart? If it's not, we won't bother with the plug."

"Oh, it's good, it's good." She twisted her chin over her shoulder. "I want to try the plug now."

"Okay." He wiped his fingers on a tissue, then grabbed the lube again and squelched it onto the little purple plug, dripped some over her arsehole. "Just the tip, now."

The tip didn't feel much different to Sherlock's finger, only cooler. He moved it in and out in a slow easy rhythm.

"More?"

"More."

He pressed the plug a little deeper, and she felt the girth of it, where it expanded, where it began to stretch her open. "Stop."

"Take it out?"

"No, just, wait a bit."

Sherlock remained still, holding the plug against her, waiting. Did anyone else know how still and patient he could be, and a case wasn't even involved--how attentive he could be to another person's needs and wants? When she shifted just a little, raising her hips, he knew what she meant and began to press the plug deeper again. He moved steadily but very slowly, and this time she let it stretch, let it hurt, for just a moment, and then it was inside, pressing against the inner walls, while her arsehole closed around the stem of it and the flat base snugged against her.

"Well done." He kissed her buttock, stroked the other. "Now turn over again, and the fun begins."

Molly started to comply, and heard herself moan softly as the plug shifted with her movements. Sherlock was nearly smirking; her consolation was that he must have tried a butt plug himself, with some lover, and rather than making her jealous, that thought made her muscles clench, seizing the plug. Of course she knew that the rectum and the vagina shared a wall, but actually feeling it was something else--feeling everything "down there" contract together, the sensation heightened by the little purple intruder.

Sherlock drew one leg across his lap and tapped her clit. "Feel that?" The sensation rippled from front to back, through her vagina to her bum, stirring the muscles around the plug again.

"Oh yes." She pushed her hips up, begging for another touch.

"Now feel this," Sherlock growled, and rolled over and into her.

Molly Hooper lost her words. Of all the sounds a human throat could make, she was left with but one: "Oh! oh! oh!" Oh, the fullness of cunt and arse together; oh, the friction of Sherlock's perfect cock; oh, the insistent fingers that wrung her clit without mercy. Sherlock did not hold out very long, but he didn't need to; Molly came as close as she ever had to blacking out from orgasm. Every muscle contracted and then released in synchrony, and she was barely aware of Sherlock's belly-deep groan of climax.

"Easy," he was saying, his lips against the back of her neck now. Soft fingers found the base of the plug, tugged, twisted. Molly cooed as the plug's departure sent delicious aftershocks up her spine.

Sherlock gathered her against his chest, his soft cock nestling between the cheeks of her bum. "You can use it on me next time." He kissed her neck. "And then, perhaps, you'll let me fuck you in the arse?"

Sneaky devil. He hadn't persuaded her to try that yet. The plug had been an inducement.

"Yes, but only if we have two plugs--one for each of us."

His low chuckle was the last she heard before drifting to sleep.


End file.
